He stopped, not daring to utter the word that rose to his lips, through fear of offending the other.
"From bandits, I suppose, Captain?" the Jaguar replied, with a smile. "Oh, no denial, I know what we are called at Mexico. Yes, Caballero, at the present day we are outlaws, border ruffians, freebooters; tomorrow, perhaps, we shall be heroes and saviours of a people; but so the world goes; but let us leave that. You wished to speak to me, I heard."
"Did you not also evince a desire, Caballero, to have an interview with me?"
"I did, Captain; I have only one question to ask you, though—will you promise me to answer it?"
"On my honour, if it be possible."
The Jaguar reflected for a moment, and then continued—
"You hate me, I suppose?"
"What makes you imagine that?"
"How do I know?" the Jaguar replied, with embarrassment; "a thousand reasons, as, for instance, the obstinacy with which you sought to take my life a few hours agone."
The Captain drew himself up, and his face assumed a stern expression which it had not worn hitherto.